


Trip over

by micasaessakusa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, F/M, Gangs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micasaessakusa/pseuds/micasaessakusa
Summary: [Secret Agent!AU]Difficult would be too light a word to describe your journey just to get to where you are now. Content with your current life together with your tight knit squad, what happens when a supposed easy mission goes bust and you're forced to face the past you desperately tried to escape from?
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. A Bust

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's my first time publishing here on Ao3, I hope you like it! My works are cross-posted on DeviantArt and Tumblr under the same username.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck we’re all going to die fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck i haven’t even had sex in months fuck i don’t want to die a thirsty single woman fuck fuck fuck fuck we were supposed to be ridiculously skilled agents what happened fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu--_

Pain blooms on your left cheek, making you snap out of your trance. Looking forward, you realize Sugawara had slapped you in his haste to get you out of your thoughts -- thoughts that were running a million miles per minute because of the shit you just found yourselves in. You stare at him, still a bit zoned out but trying to decipher what the hell it was that he was trying to tell you.

His soft hands grasp your shoulders tightly and he shakes you real hard. This time, he’s successful in his attempt to get your attention. “Snap out of it, [Y/N]!” His voice is frantic and the panic almost wafts off of him in waves. “We have to get out of here, the mission’s a bust!”

It’s as if all at once, your senses return and you’re finally able to hear the shouting and gunshots fired all around you, the smell of gunpowder making you wrinkle your nose from the burn that lines your nostrils down to your lungs. Drops of sweat from exertion form on your hairline and run down your face and neck, not at all aided by the sweltering heat inside the safehouse. The whole ordeal is even made worse by the weight of all the weapons strapped to you, the usual comfort they provided absent.

A loud voice sounds from the hallway to your left, making you and Sugawara turn towards the source.

“What are you two doing just standing there?” Daichi, the Unit Captain, shouts, his brows furrowed so much it looks like he’s about ready to end the both of you. “Let’s go, the enemy’s already onto us! Fall back!”

Sugawara grips your hand tight and pulls you towards the direction that your captain took off to. You both run and run, but you struggle to keep up with his pace and as if luck would have it, you trip on a dead body, making you gasp for breath upon the impact of meeting the floor.

You groan, seeing Sugawara running to evade two black-clad men that are on his tail, ready to corner him. You understand that he had to leave you and you decide right then that even if you’re on your own, you’re going to escape this hellhole. You can’t die just like that.

 _No_ , you’re going to survive. _After all_ , you think, _you couldn’t die a lonely, single woman._

With all the resolve in the world, you stand up prepared to literally run for your life, but the moment you take the first step, your face meets the floor again. You shout a loud curse and another one after that upon seeing fresh blood on the floor. Lifting your hand to your nose, you sneer at the red liquid flowing, but you’re at least _a bit_ grateful when you find that your nose isn’t broken.

Lifting yourself to a seated position, you realize someone is tugging at your foot - the same someone and the same tugging that caused you to fall face-flat on the floor. _“Atsumu?”_ you say, incredulous.

“What the fuck?” you crawl towards him, trying to pull him upright so you can both run, but when you yank at his right arm, he yelps. Horror washes over your features when you see that his arm is dislocated. 

_Badly._

It looks like it’s going to fall off of its socket totally. “That bad, huh?” He says upon seeing your reaction. Shakily, you tell him that _no, it’s not that bad_ and that _no, the horror on your face isn’t for his injury at all._

You suck in a deep breath and move to his other side, pulling his good arm over your shoulder so you can support him.

Looking side to side, you try to look for a place to hide, figuring you couldn’t escape with speed because of your colleague’s state.

Turns out, Atsumu also sprained his ankle apart from the shoulder he dislocated. “What did you do, Miya? Did you fucking parkour on this mission? What the fuck,” you whisper-shout as you move towards a seemingly deserted hallway.

“Can you stop saying fuck?” he grunts, “I’m already hurt as it is, your whining will only injure my ears.”

You jab your fingers on his ribs, “Shut it or I’ll leave you here, Miya.” Another insult is already resting on the tip of your tongue and you’re just about to say it when--

The floor is eerily cold on your palms and your vision is spinning and blurring, almost as if a thin sheet of translucent material was thrown over your eyes. You want so badly to curse out the stupid fuck who smashed your head with a metal bat. Well, at least you think it’s a metal bat based on what the man in front of Atsumu is about to swing. _‘He could’ve at least made sure I lost consciousness totally,’_ you think vaguely, scrunching your eyes in pain.

He’s just about to attack your colleague when he hears you whimper, a quiet but audible _(and rather pathetic) “stop”_ coming from you.

Your consciousness is wavering when you see the man turn to look at you. He eyes your weak form crumpled on the floor, your hands cradling the back of your head where you were hit.

A pained, annoyed growl escapes your throat when he grabs you by the front of the bulletproof vest you’re wearing. If you could, you would have cursed the fucker and his face mask out. Lucky for him, you’re currently in a not-so-ideal state. Your head throbs upon each miniscule movement and you want to escape the sadistic little shit in front of you so you close your eyes and try to wriggle free from his hold.

However, he apparently has different plans. He kneels in front you and grips your chin so you’ll come face to face with him. “We’re gonna have so much fun with you, [Y/N].”

The oddly familiar moles above his eyebrow are the last you see before your face meets his fist. 

_Then your world becomes black._


	2. Midnight blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for updating this so late! I literally lost the outline I made, 'cos I wrote it on paper (I like writing more than typing), and I wasn't able to recreate it and I just got so upset I almost discontinued the fic. But lo and behold, I found it yesterday and now here's the next chap! I promise to update this regularly from now on, every seven days at the latest (as how it should've been). Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy!

Biting chill and a splitting headache greets you the moment you wake up, making you mutter a low ‘ _fuck_ ’ under your breath.

Add to that? The cold, damp walls cause a shiver to run down your spine, not at all affected by the torches lit with fire outside your cell, and a quick scan of your surroundings reveals two guards stationed outside your door, while a few more line up along the hallway. 

You grimace at the situation you find yourself in. _What the fuck actually happened?_

Any other day, you could probably take those guards down, but you’ve been rid of all your weapons and you’re left only in a plain white tee and black shorts. The thought of someone destrapping you of your gear and changing you out of your attire claws at the back of your mind, but you ignore it for now, choosing to focus instead on your current predicament. You’ll deal with that poor soul later.

There’s also absolutely nothing you could use as a weapon and the only way out is through the door that’s guarded. That leaves you with no other option but to lay low for now and wait for an opening later. Besides, the way the walls feel eerily cold and the enemy’s use of torches tell you you’re probably underground, meaning escape is totally impossible.

It might have been around a couple of hours since you’ve woken up, if your estimate is correct, before the heavy double doors at the end of the hall open to reveal a man decked in all black. The way he walks with a sense of purpose tells you he’s probably not here to frolic about and it’s just your luck that he stops in front of your cell and looks down at you with near disdain.

_Slicked dark green hair, scary eyes, a resting bitch face, a hint of a white tattoo peeking from his turtleneck… have you seen this guy before?_

The man barks out an order for the guards to bring you out, all while keeping his narrow slanted eyes fixed on your form. Intimidated, you back up a bit against the wall, afraid of coming anywhere near the guy who radiates danger, but you make sure to keep your facial features neutral.

No way are you going to let the enemy actually know that they scare you. No, that’s not how it’s going to be.

The two guards walk over you and haul you up, their fingers digging roughly on the flesh of your upper arms. You struggle to keep up with their pace with your still throbbing head, so you focus your strength on walking straight ahead. You can’t help but grind your teeth together from the harshness of their grips, especially when you go up several flights of stairs.

You’re breathing heavily by the time the menacing man in front of you stops and you curse yourself for not even remembering the directions you moved through. Your captain would surely be disappointed with how you’re acting right now.

Speaking of your captain… a sudden barrage of thoughts pass through your mind. _Is your team okay? How many survived? How were you even ambushed? Was there a mole? What hap-- Atsumu!_

Your eyes snap wide open at the memory of your colleague. Atsumu was with you before you blacked out. Was he also taken to the same place? Is he here? _Is he alive?_ The probable presence of your teammate makes your escape plan even more complicated. Not that you already have one.

First thing’s first: you definitely have to rest your head before you can even proceed with anything.

The man in front of you, their unit captain from what you’ve gathered, opens a set of double doors to reveal a dimly-lit room that’s bare save for a low table and a couple of cushions on the floor.

“Thank you, Daishou,” a low but clear voice suddenly sounds from the man standing by the window to your left. “You may leave now.”

“Yes, Sir,” Daishou answers and the men holding you upright shove you towards the floor before exiting the room. You turn back around to look at them, seeing the man named Daishou leering at you just as the doors close behind you. _You just know you’ve seen him from somewhere..._

Utter silence fills the room, the other presence not once addressing you since you’ve arrived. You choose to scan the room subtly for the meantime, welcoming the much warmer feel on your skin.

With not much to take note of, you let your eyes roam the back of the man by the window instead. 

His midnight blue kimono matches the scenery outside, the fabric keeping the full extent of his build hidden from your eyes. But from what you can see, his height and broad shoulders alone already prove challenging enough if you try to overpower him. Maybe you can outmaneuver him with your agility, look for a hidden weapon he would most likely have in his person, and try to escape through the window. However it w--

“Don’t even think about it.”

You swallow down your shock.

“I’m stronger than you…” It takes all your willpower to not tackle him at the moment, but he continues.

“And, say you do manage to overpower me, what’s your plan? You’re going to kill the hundreds of men we have stationed here then break free?”

Unhurried, he turns around to face you, his kimono swaying a bit from the movement, and this time…

This time you gasp.

It’s as if time has stopped and your vision has faded at the seams, your focus steady solely on nothing but him.

_…endearing beauty marks..._

His name rests at the tip of your tongue, wanting to escape, but you find yourself unable to speak. Breath evades you as the lump in your throat seems to increase even more in size, choking you and rendering you unable to form any words from the shock alone of seeing him again for the first time in more than a full decade.

_...soft, wavy hair..._

He levels you with a look of indifference, however, his stare so detached and impersonal it hits you like a whiplash. His eyes are so cold it rivals the chill you felt back in your damp cell… _so apathetic_ it makes your mind grapple desperately to conjure up memories of him looking at you differently.

_...deep, expressive dark brown orbs..._

But the long years of not seeing him fails your mind, your recollection of him nothing but a blurred canvas that has unforgivingly faded through time. And now, you’re left with the blank eyes of the man in front of you.

His gaze then shifts the moment he sees you staring at him shell shocked, and he dons a smirk that snaps you back to reality.

“Ah, yes,” he starts as he stalks towards you. “It’s been a long while, hasn’t it, [Y/N]?”

As he kneels in front of you, what seems to be a thousand miles between you reduces to less than half a foot and you have to crane your neck to keep looking at his face.

 _“Fuck,_ ” is all what your eloquence could produce at the moment, your mind still reeling from the reunion you never thought would happen again. Millions of thoughts filter past through your mind: explanations, excuses, words you’d rather hide from him, and you almost slap yourself from doing just that.

But you just can’t seem to process it… _he’s actually here… in front of you… you can just raise your hand and you’ll be able to feel the skin you’ve yearned to touch for so long and it just--_

A patronizing chuckle cuts through your internal rambling and you almost melt there and then from how much you’ve missed hearing that sound - even though this one seems just a tad _meaner…_

“Oddly endeared to that word, aren’t you?”

You only manage a shaky exhale as you disregard his question, still tongue tied. There and then, as you stay unmoving while you gaze into his eyes, all emotions you’ve kept locked for ten years without him come pouring out with a single whisper of his name…

_“Kiyoomi.”_


End file.
